For a Pessimist
by Holly Marie Fowl
Summary: Based on 'For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic' by Paramore. Holly reflects on events in The Time Paradox. Spoilers. T for safety. revised from earlier songfic


**Salvete.** I was playing around with my new laptop and decided to rewrite this. It was a songfic that I did a while ago based on the song For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic by Paramore. I took out the lyrics, so I suggest listening to it while you read (if you can find it on youtube!). Enjoy!

On a Side Note: I'm finally finished with Greek Gods and Fairies. If anyone has any story suggestions, let me know! :)

**Disclaimer:** I'M NOT EOIN COLFER!! (Obviously.)

Regular font in quotes—Holly's thoughts

"_Italicized font in quotes"_—song lyrics (though hardly any will be used)

"_**Bold, intalicized font in quotes"**_—quotes from the book

**For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic**

**Based on the song by Paramore**

The hot shower pounds my back, and in the background, my favorite band blasts through the house. I need time to think. Now. Over the last day—or would it be three days?—I really learned something. No matter how different a person can become, they never fully change. Do they? If they do, then why would Artemis lied to me again?

A wall of irrational anger hits me. My hand lashes out at the wall of the shower unbidden. I see blue sparks out of the corner of my eye heal the damage done by the innocent wall. I don't feel any physical pain, only the sting of betrayal.

How could he? I thought he was my friend! I thought I could trust him! I can't believe that he had the nerve to do that!

"_You can't runaway."_

A little voice in the back of my head defends him.

"He may have lied, but at least he told the truth. At least he's taking responsibility for what he did."

Well, I suppose that it's a good thing that he admitted it; he's not trying to run from what he did. That does little to squash the anger building inside me.

"_I put my faith in you _

_So much faith_

_And then you_

_Just threw it away."_

What about our relationship now? How are we supposed to work together smoothly with this? You can't lie to someone—especially not me—and expect complete and total blind trust. No, I'm not still that stupid. I'm smart enough that I can recognize when someone is just using me.

"But is he really just using you? You've seen how gets sometimes. He's very protective of you."

Well, I think, now that's just creepy. I am literally having an argument with myself.

Despite my growing suspicions about being crazy, I answer myself.

That doesn't mean anything, I argue. If he does it once, he'd do it again.

"You forget the circumstances."

I most certainly do not.

No reply from that section of my mind, but if I had been talking to a person, I'd see the Look. The Look that you get when you say something utterly ridiculous and the other person knows you know it.

Can I please finish fuming?

No answer.

Thank you.

I pause a moment to listen to the song.

"_You never wanted to stay. . ."_

Those words hit me. So is that it? Is he giving up our friendship? That's not like him. He never has been very good at keeping or making friends though. . .

"Try Benefit of the Doubt. You're the first friend he's made. . .that he didn't pay."

I never thought of it _that _way.

"_You were finished long before we had even seen a start."_

The part of my mind that I am arguing with draws attention to those lines.

What, I think, is that it?

"Obviously."

No. . . I don't. . .

"Like him? Liar."

A memory is called up. . .a gorilla cage, a human boy, an adolescent fairy. . .

NO!!!! That's not possible!

"It clearly is. You still trust him more than anyone else; you're just using this betrayal to put off the imminent."

Another picture, of something that hadn't happened and probably never would, comes to mind.

The same boy, the same fairy. . .lips connected in a passionate kiss.

I squeeze my eyes shut, then, finding the image there as well, open them.

Oh, go write some romance novel!

"You are yelling at yourself."

That is a fair point.

"Back to our conversation. . ."

What conversation? I'm not discussing this.

"Scared?"

No. . .

"Then why not discuss it?"

I don't have an answer, and thankfully, don't have to supply one. My communicator rings—thankfully it is not the subject of my thoughts.

"_And then you just threw it away."_

"_**Let's just carry on and leave the past in the past, where it should be."**_

That's what I said to him, but did I actually mean it? I'll be trying to figure this out for the rest of my life. He should know that. I'm still not sure if I should trust him.

I'll give him one more shot. Then he's done.

That being decided, on a two-second basis, I pick up the phone.

**End Notes:** Hope you liked it. ;) Let me know in a review!


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